I'm away tonight.
We are away tonight.
We are away together.
And we'll be together all night long.
The title says he took me away with him, although that's not quite accurate. He didn't physically take me away. What with differing schedules and points of origin, we couldn't travel together. A pity, that. Though I expect the intensity would have been nearly unbearable.
So we will have met.
A few hours from home.
At a hotel.
With a casino.
I've never been to a casino before.
I love it when he takes me out of my comfort zone.
I wrote this Monday night. A day ahead of when you're reading it. So I don't know what will have happened. I'm assuming - hoping - that all has gone smoothly. Our on-time departures. Not too much traffic. The reservation. My room preparations. His arrival. My greeting.
Me,
serving him a drink,
wearing
a black bra,
black panties,
and
(here it comes)
black spike heels.
Not one of the pairs I got cheap at the thrift store. Turns out they looked like the right size but were way too small. So I went shopping and got a proper pair at Payless Shoes for just $20 with heels around the same height but much skinnier. I think he'll like them better. And they fit better. Plus I did get gel inserts to ease the torture.
I think he'll be pleased at the sight of me.
Men do have their fantasies.
Then dinner.
And the casino.
And after...
Maybe, when I get home, I'll tell you about after.
Then again,
maybe not.
Why don't you write the story?
Showing posts with label lingerie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lingerie. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Monday, May 5, 2008
Update and New Publication Schedule
I don’t get it. I pour my heart out here. I reveal what an insubordinate submissive I’ve been, I describe the horrific punishment I think I deserve, and what’s the only comment I get? One of you recognizes my BRAS!!
Not that I mind hearing that. It led to one of my favorite discussions about the general inadequacy of men with regard to getting a girl out of a front-hooking bra. In fact, I’m convinced that the reason so few bras are made to clasp in the front is to spare men from betraying their feeble de-bra-ification skills.
A good dom, however, never needs to worry about such things The philosopher merely has to say “Strip!” and the problem is solved.
But that’s neither here nor there. There’s still the issue of one submissive kitten thinking she should be beaten to a pulp because she high-handedly tossed her master’s direct order aside. An order that was for her own good.
I can be snarky about it now, but I was pretty much a huge mess over the entire weekend. Plus I still haven’t figured out why I was laughing after confessing my sin. And I don’t use the word “sin” lightly. It felt like I had done something hugely unforgivable, and without having been punished I had no way to get rid of the guilt and the pain.
That’s one of the wonderful things about being a submissive. I do wrong, I’m punished, and then I’m his good kitten again. It doesn’t hang over me, eating at my guts and my soul.
But the phone connection went whacko Friday night, and it was late, and we kept losing the signal. So my master just put me to bed, not realizing that I was in crisis. And he’s essentially off Dom-duty over the weekend. That’s the agreement, for the sake of the dissertation.
But when he read that over-the-top punishment post, he did the long distance equivalent of rushing to my side. He phoned. And I sobbed. And he apologized for not having at least e-mailed on Saturday. And I said he shouldn’t be apologizing when I’d been so bad. And so on…
He was lovely. He really is so lovely. And I cried about how much I miss him and how hard it is going months and months without seeing him and more of the same and then… and then he said "It will be ok, kitten. We’ll muddle through.”
And that “we” jumped out at me, and felt like a real “we” and I choked up and he asked if I was crying and I admitted well yeah, sort of, but it was good crying this time, and…
Do you really want to hear all this mushy soap opera stuff? Fade out on this morning’s wake-up call, where he sounds all snuggly and the sound of his voice makes me feel all snuggly, and he asks me what I’m wearing… and we know that everything will be all right.
It will, right?
He does still owe me a punishment.
PS – my master accepted my proposal for a reduced publication schedule. Watch for new posts on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. And any pictures of the cats will appear on Fridays only. Marko fans – you will have to be patient.
Not that I mind hearing that. It led to one of my favorite discussions about the general inadequacy of men with regard to getting a girl out of a front-hooking bra. In fact, I’m convinced that the reason so few bras are made to clasp in the front is to spare men from betraying their feeble de-bra-ification skills.
A good dom, however, never needs to worry about such things The philosopher merely has to say “Strip!” and the problem is solved.
But that’s neither here nor there. There’s still the issue of one submissive kitten thinking she should be beaten to a pulp because she high-handedly tossed her master’s direct order aside. An order that was for her own good.
I can be snarky about it now, but I was pretty much a huge mess over the entire weekend. Plus I still haven’t figured out why I was laughing after confessing my sin. And I don’t use the word “sin” lightly. It felt like I had done something hugely unforgivable, and without having been punished I had no way to get rid of the guilt and the pain.
That’s one of the wonderful things about being a submissive. I do wrong, I’m punished, and then I’m his good kitten again. It doesn’t hang over me, eating at my guts and my soul.
But the phone connection went whacko Friday night, and it was late, and we kept losing the signal. So my master just put me to bed, not realizing that I was in crisis. And he’s essentially off Dom-duty over the weekend. That’s the agreement, for the sake of the dissertation.
But when he read that over-the-top punishment post, he did the long distance equivalent of rushing to my side. He phoned. And I sobbed. And he apologized for not having at least e-mailed on Saturday. And I said he shouldn’t be apologizing when I’d been so bad. And so on…
He was lovely. He really is so lovely. And I cried about how much I miss him and how hard it is going months and months without seeing him and more of the same and then… and then he said "It will be ok, kitten. We’ll muddle through.”
And that “we” jumped out at me, and felt like a real “we” and I choked up and he asked if I was crying and I admitted well yeah, sort of, but it was good crying this time, and…
Do you really want to hear all this mushy soap opera stuff? Fade out on this morning’s wake-up call, where he sounds all snuggly and the sound of his voice makes me feel all snuggly, and he asks me what I’m wearing… and we know that everything will be all right.
It will, right?
He does still owe me a punishment.
PS – my master accepted my proposal for a reduced publication schedule. Watch for new posts on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. And any pictures of the cats will appear on Fridays only. Marko fans – you will have to be patient.
Friday, May 2, 2008
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